


Revenge Would Never Be as Sweet

by subtlesinner



Category: The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Other, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlesinner/pseuds/subtlesinner
Summary: ***Super spoilers in here for the end of Cibola Burn, don't read this if you don't want to be spoiled!***I was always pretty bummed that we never really get a direct account from Holden's perspective of finding Amos after his shitshow of a showdown with Murtry, because Amos is my favorite, and angst gives me life. So, this is just a little drabble of what I thought might have gone down.*it may be slightly canon divergent, based on when events line up, I thought I went back and checked but I could be wrong there... so, sorry!





	Revenge Would Never Be as Sweet

Holden’s chest felt so tight it ached as he, Dr. Okoye, and the scumbag Chief Security Officer Murtry, made their way back through the winding ruins toward the mouth of the cave, where their friends were either waiting for them, and bleeding out, or they weren’t. His fingers shifted over the trigger guard on his side arm anxiously, as Holden replayed Dr. Okoye’s words to him when she’d burst in on him and Miller so unexpectedly, _Amos is dead… Fayez, too,_ yet Murtry had claimed they were still alive and shooting, which sounded like Amos. Holden wanted to believe it was true, that Murtry wasn’t just using his friend’s life as a bargaining chip to keep Holden from killing him. Holden’s hands were shaking, as he stubbornly pointed out, _he believed Dr. Okoye- no, Elvi,_ he corrected, _far more than he believed Murtry, no matter how much he needed the man’s words to be true…_ The weight of the grief on his chest was making him start to feel physically ill. _Amos couldn’t be dead, it just wasn’t physically possible- he was too stubborn to let it happen, and there were many that had tried and failed, before Murtry._ The cavernous tunnel curved upwards, which made the doctor gasp at the familiar landmark. Her voice was shrill, evidently dreading whatever they were about to find just as much as he was, as she spoke.

“We’re almost to the mouth of the cave, Captain Holden.”

“Thank you, Elvi.” He said, jabbing the Security Chief in the back sharply with the barrel of his gun. _If Amos is dead, nothing will stop me from ending this waste of a man, right here. Right now._ It was the kind of thought Holden knew Naomi would shake her head at, so much more like Miller than he once was, but it was the only way he would be able to process the void of loss that seeing a member of his tiny found family dying would bring. _Amos was a member of his crew. His family. And killing this asshole would feel good, even if it could never bring Amos back._

Light filled the tunnel, and Holden knew they had to have reached the mouth of the cave, where Murtry had had to trick Amos, or he’d never have been able to take the larger man down. Holden shoved the thought away as they crested the hilltop; the smell of fresh blood and gunpowder was thick in the air, and it coated the insides of Holden’s nostrils as he heard Elvi draw a shuddering breath next to him.

“There they are! Ah, _Fayez-_ “ The young doctor took off at a run, and Holden’s insides twisted painfully when he caught sight of the poor woman’s body, that had once belonged to someone Amos had befriended, lying on the tunnel floor; there was no mistaking the brutal mark of Amos’s handiwork in the shotgun wound on her chest, which only made Holden’s own constrict tighter. “Captain Holden!” Elvi shouted, and for a moment, he’d thought Murtry had slipped loose while he was lost in horrified thought, until he looked up and his stomach leapt into his throat. Holden shoved Murtry forward at a pace just short of running, his eyes trained on the crumpled, bleeding figure that had to be Amos, next to where Elvi was crouching. Dr. Sarkis, or Fayez, as Elvi had called him, was standing behind them, nursing a gunshot wound of his own, but he seemed lucid enough that Holden honestly didn’t care what else happened anymore. He thrust the side arm into the harrowed-looking geologist’s hand with a brusque nod toward Murtry, before unceremoniously sprinting the rest of the distance to Amos’s side.

The aftermath of the fight was gruesome, from everything Holden could take in as he closed the space between them; Amos was still lying where he’d fallen in a crumpled heap against the strange textured ground, a disconcerting amount of blood pooled beneath him. It wasn’t until Holden was right next to him that he realized the mechanic was clutching one hand to his chest weakly, and that the mangled limb was short a few digits. Holden’s blood ran cold with a mix of alarm and fury at the sight.

“Hey, Boss…” Amos greeted him with a small nod, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, his head perked up slightly when he could finally vaguely see Holden through the haze of pain, as the Captain sank to his knees next to him. Amos’s breathing was labored and wet, in a way that made Holden think of collapsed lungs, or lungs full of blood, neither of which was a thing he wanted to think about.

“Hey, Big Man,” Holden tried to smile as he looked down at Amos, but it came out wrong, tears filling his eyes even though he didn’t want the other man to see it. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’ve had worse.” Amos lied, then tried to sit up and failed, the effort making him cough out that horrible, wet rattling sound again. “Okay, maybe I haven’t, but I’m still here anyway.” Holden couldn’t quite describe the relief he was feeling, hearing Amos say it, when he asked, “So did it work? Can we finally get the fuck off this rock?” _Amos’s neck was bleeding… That was the source of the pooled blood, and the wet cough._ Ignoring his question for the moment, Holden reached for the wound, trying to put pressure on it without hurting Amos any further. Amos only grunted at the new discomfort, as Holden started to staunch the blood flow.

“We’re gonna find out soon enough. First priority is getting you stabilized, then we can call Alex to pick us up, and arrange ourselves a little trade.”

“A trade?” Amos processed Holden’s words slowly, pain making everything else difficult to focus on, as he asked, “Who-“

Amos started struggling to sit up again, despite the wracking sounds coming from his throat beneatha Holden’s still outstretched palms. When Amos was able to make out Murtry’s silhouette through the haze, he started for his shotgun, thrashing wildly when Holden released the bleeding gash on his neck to try to put a hand on his shoulder. “Why the _fuck_ is this asshole still breathing?”

“Amos…” Holden tried to talk him down gently, worried his friend would worsen his wounds by struggling. “Come on-“

“He _made_ me fucking kill Wei!” Amos stilled, more out of pain than anything else, but his whole body was shaking with a rage he couldn’t physically express at present. Holden felt like he’d been physically punched in the gut when Amos said it, almost pleadingly. He had no doubt that Murtry had known Wei and Amos had gotten close throughout the disaster, and the sick bastard had had no trouble exploiting that fact, putting the both of them in an impossibly difficult situation. For one hot, burning second, Holden wanted to take Amos’s shotgun and let loose on the sociopath, but he knew it wouldn’t do any justice for all the things Murtry was responsible for, and it wouldn’t bring Naomi home safely. “Cap, he fucking made me kill Wei!” Amos repeated, his voice broken and pleading, but he knew it was futile… Holden had made his choice, and Murtry was to be their bargaining chip for Naomi.

“I know, Amos... I know.” Holden put a hand on the side of Amos’s sheet-white face, cold and pallid from blood loss, so that they were looking at each other eye to eye. “He’s going to answer for it. I swear he will, but it can’t be out here. Not like this.”

Starting to grow angry, Amos shoved Holden’s hands away, furiously spitting his words,

“It was what happened to her! Why shouldn’t he deserve the same?” Elvi approached them after retrieving the emergency medical kit from under the seat of the cart, passing Holden a roll of gauze for the wound on his neck before she placed a gentle hand on Amos’s shoulder.

“Please, try to stay calm, Amos… We’ve all been through a lot today, but you… You’ve gotten the worst. I’m very sorry for that.” She pressed a small medical syringe into his neck a few inches above the wound, the new sharp stab of pain making Amos take in a gasp of air, before it cooled to warm relief that flooded through him, quieting his mind like a soft, thick blanket.

“I’m sorry…” Holden apologized, still stunned by Amos’s grief-stricken outburst; he couldn’t imagine having to make a choice to kill someone he knew, possibly intimately, in a situation where it was kill or be killed, then to be denied his version of justice because of a vague promise somewhere down the line. “Fuck, Amos, I’m just so sorry.” Holden’s pleading apologies didn’t feel even remotely adequate, but it didn’t stop him from saying them. Amos’s eyes finally slid shut as he gave in to the drugs’ sedation, and he fell eerily still, his mangled, bleeding hand still pulled tight against his chest like a wounded animal. It had left him covered in a sickeningly thick, sticky layer of brown-red, half dried blood that made Holden’s stomach churn.

“Alright, he’s out, for now.” Elvi stood up slowly, packing away the spent syringe, before motioning for Holden to help her move Amos’s now slack body off the ground where he lay. Without him being conscious to bravado his way past Holden’s concerns, Amos looked remarkably fragile in a way the Captain had never quite grasped before now. _Hell, even during the insanity that transpired during their first trip through the Ring Gates, Amos had protected Monica Stewart, and the minister, Ana, and somehow he’d survived the chaos and hellfire with lesser wounds than this..._ Holden swallowed hard, moving to help Elvi heave Amos into the back of the cart he’d managed to fix up less than 48 hours before. It felt surreal, in a way, as they set to work treating his wounds as best they could in the field- wrapping his neck and binding his hand tightly, in an effort to minimize the blood loss he was no doubt already suffering from. Holden refused to even try to make a call until Amos had been taken care of, first. He owed the man that, at the very least.

 


End file.
